Be Strong, My Love
by M.Kena
Summary: “Be strong, my love. For he will never rest. And now that we are together for eternity we will punish him and his kind. For they are the ones that are ill.” When the brothers go to Storm Lake Iowa they get in over their heads. Will they both survive?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The brothers set out to stop a witch who is destroying anyone who stands in the way of true love. But one of them is a hindrance she will not ignore.

Warning: Um, some same sex love implied, not between the brothers. And a little language, that's why the rating is what it is, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: Don't own Sam or Dean or any of the WB characters. If I did… well I wouldn't be here, would I? Oh and just in case this backfires and I piss people off, I have nothing against any sexual orientation of any kind. Don't ask don't tell, right?

**Chapter one, The Illness**

Elizabeth Walton stood atop the highest room in their manor. She stared at the ground and could only wish it would greet her faster than what she was promised the moment she stepped off the pale blue balcony. She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her ashen cheeks. She had died three nights ago.

She just wanted to make it _official._

Three nights ago Elizabeth had died with her best friend—who was much, much more than that in the privacy of a locked closet or occasional bathroom—Alana Gold. Her wrists stung as the fresh cuts in the soft flesh were kissed by the frigid night wind. On each wrist she had carved a half of a heart, but on each wrist was the left half. Alana had carved the right half upon her own skin. As her bloodied hands gripped the green and yellow curtains of her bay window a soft whisper tickled her ears.

_"He will never rest." _

Her toes hung off the balcony, gripping the wood, as much as her heart wanted to fall her body didn't want to comply. She heard a knock upon her door.

"Elizabeth… why weren't you at supper?" It was _him_. He had killed her without laying a hand upon her. It was he who sent Alana to the stake… to be burned. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. She saw the orange flames burning away Alana's milky white skin, the red flames that tattered the revealing black dress in which Alana had chosen to die in, she saw Alana's eyes—the deep emerald green of which she had spent many nights lying next to _him _dreaming about—staring back at her, always full of life. But what she saw the most was her lips, those lips that had felt so soft upon her own, they mouthed over and over _"Be strong, my love." _

"I'm coming in!" He yelled and with a bang, the door fell in. Elizabeth turned to face him.

He was hideous. Those eyes so full malice and evil. How had she ever once found herself attracted to _him_? How did she ever _love_ him?

He froze and stared at her. The blood running down her opened wrists, the black dress she was wearing, the desperation in her eyes. He held his hands out her to.

"Wife, come inside." He coaxed, his deep voice strong yet loving. She took a step back, so her heels were hanging off the edge. She pointed at him, her pale hands shaking, her dark brown eyes full of tears.

"_You!_ Don't come any closer!" She bellowed, her voice taking on a tone not her own. "You have killed me!"

"I have not touched you!" He yelled back, desperation finding him as well. "Is this about that _witch_?" He asked. Elizabeth cast her eyes away. "Can't you not see that I have done you a favor? She had a spell cast upon you! That was ill love, Elizabeth! You were not well and I have cured you!" He took a step towards her.

Elizabeth looked at him. Her eyes shining _green_, emerald green. A wicked smirk played upon her thin, chapped lips.

"Then I shall always be ill." She let go of the green curtain. "And death will not cure me, but free me." Then she fell backwards.

"_Be strong, my love. For he will never rest. And now that we are together for eternity we will punish him and his kind. For they are the ones that are ill." _

_&&&_

"Enjoying yourself?" Tracey whispered heavily in Brady's ear. He nodded and then Joy stuck her tongue in his mouth. Tracey smiled and nibbled on his ear. "Good." She whispered, her hand running along Joy's bare back. "Because I know we are." Joy opened her eyes and smiled at Tracey. Brady was way too into her kiss to notice.

"Hey, touchy much!" Joy squealed when Brady grabbed her. She slapped his bare chest and sat up, her arms covering herself. "We agreed to this because you said you'd write our term papers, grabby hands were so not even in the agreement." She whined and crawled out of the bed.

Tracey winked her gray eyes at Brady. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Let me talk to her." She whispered and got out of bed, taking the sheet with her. She knocked softly on the bathroom door where Joy had locked herself. "Joy, sweetie, let me in." She called.

Joy opened the door and smiled at her friend lamely. Tracey raised her perfect black eyebrows. Tracey jerked her thumb back towards Brady, who was currently running Joy's comb through his mass of curly blonde hair. He had the whole boy band look going on with his twist of—what he thought was skater—wannabe mixed into it. He was the guy who wore girls' pants but didn't skate. He wore Rolling Stones tee shirts, but he couldn't name five of their songs. They were only doing this because he was acing World Lit., and they were close to getting Cs, something the two former honors students had never done before.

"Let's just finish him off." She whispered and pouted. "You want your parents to keep sending you that monthly check, right?" She coaxed. Joy nodded, her big brown eyes focused on Tracey's hand that was clutching a rose of fabric to hold the sheet in place. Tracey stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

"I can't stand seeing you kiss him." Joy whispered. Tracey grabbed her hands.

"Hey." She whispered, lifting Joy's chin with her hand. "You think I like kissing him?" Tracey asked. "You know I love you." She pouted some more, working those lips her step-daddy had paid to improve. "But I really love having nice things too and if I fail… our income decreases."

"I feel like a whore." Joy whispered, fingering the fabric Tracey was wrapped up in. She had grabbed the bathrobe they hung behind the bathroom door, so neither of them were naked, not that she wouldn't have been okay with that. Tracey laughed.

"You are a whore, but you're my whore." She whispered and grabbed her face, letting the sheet fall if that's what is wanted to do—that's what it wanted to do—and kissed her roughly.

"Hey now, don't leave me out." Brady said as he opened the door. They turned to look at him and he immediately got that he was not wanted. He shut the door and leaned against it. Totally confused. "They're dikes?" He whispered. "Well that explains a lot."

_You are the one who is ill. _

Brady frowned. What the hell was that?

_You are the one who must pay. _

He pounded on the door. "Do you guys hear that?" Brady yelled. He just got a giggle in return. "No, seriously! You don't hear…" His voice cut off when fingers snaked their way to his sides, gripping his "love handles" which he had planned to use a little more today than he had. "What the f-." The fingers yanked him back, digging into his skin as they did so.

"Brady! What the hell are you doing?" Tracey yelled and flung open the door. She gasped. Somehow the idiot had managed to smash his head against the brick siding of their large bay window. "Joy! Call an ambulance or something!" She ran and knelt at Brady's side.

"What the hell happened?" Joy yelled as she dialed, messing up twice because her fingers were shaking so terribly.

"I don't know!" Tracey yelled back before picking up Brady's head. "Brady." She whispered. "Brady you moron, open your eyes." She demanded. "Please don't die you big idiot…" She begged.

"Yes, our friend… fell and cracked his head open. He's bleeding badly and he won't wake up." Joy explained into the phone, watching Tracey and Brady, thoroughly terrified. Tracey closed her eyes.

"Brady, dammit, please wake up?" She shook him which she knew was not the best thing to do, but she was freaking out. He'd been at the door seconds before; how the hell had he hit his head that hard?

"Oh my god… Trace look at his sides." Joy whispered, putting her delicate hand over the bruises—bruises that look a lot like fingerprints.

"What the…" Tracey was cut off when Brady's eyes flew open. She sighed. "Thank God, man you had us so worried…" His back arched and he screamed in agony. Tracey and Joy jumped to their feet, taking two steps away from Brady as his body started to convulse.

"What's happening to him?" Joy screamed. Tracey looked at her, amazed at how incredibly dense Joy could be at time. Like Tracey knew. 'Oh well this happens sometimes when the arterials in the aorta discombobulate and they clot the lactic acid and that triggers a massive'…NO! She had not one freaking idea of what was going on!

But she suited for a simple, "I don't fucking know!" Joy's eyes doubled in size. No one swore around Joy Loomis, it just wasn't done.

Then he was still.

Joy and Tracey stared at each other, waiting, like children do when they twist the handle of a jack-in-the-box, for Brady to pop up.

_Be strong, my loves. For we have cured his illness. Death does nothing be free you. Do not fear, you are well. He was not. _

Brady's eyes rolled back into his head and he started to cry blood. Joy covered her face, but Tracey watched blood flow from his nose, ears and then his mouth. "Joy." She breathed. Joy opened her eyes, only to scream and close them again. Blood began to soak through the shirt he had pulled on lazily; it was backwards as well as inside out. The blood stain was in the shape of half of a heart.

Suddenly Joy screamed. She fell onto her knees and clutched her stomach. She continued to scream, pinching forward, her eyes closed tightly.

"What?" Tracey shrieked, running to her side. Joy opened her bathrobe and showed Tracey the print on her stomach.

The same picture upon Brady's chest.

Brady—who they had assumed was dead—gurgled as the other half of the heart was carved by an invisible force into his chest. It was Tracey's turn to scream as the other half of the heart was imprinted into her stomach.

_Be strong. _

Tracey dropped to her knees and pushed on her stomach. She just wanted the pain to stop. It flowed through her whole body, every cell tingling. She screamed through closed teeth until it stopped. Why Joy wasn't holding her, she didn't know. But she was pissed about it.

Tracey looked up at Joy. She was staring at Tracey lopsidedly, as if she was studying her with those big _green_ eyes. Joy had a smile upon her face. "Joy…" Tracey whispered as she got to her feet. Joy sauntered to the kitchen, yanked their biggest and longest knife from the knife block and knelt at Brady's side.

"Rise!" She ordered in a bravado that was not her own. Brady's eyes flew open once more, his chest rising and falling in panic. He saw the knife in Joy's hand. He sat up and crawled away from her, dragging his bloodied body with his arms. Joy just smiled and laughed at his uselessness.

"Please, I'll write your paper! I promise! I'll write all your papers! Just please…" He begged. Tracey sat in shock as Joy grabbed Brady's hair and yanked his head back to the floor.

"You sad, sad little boy." She hissed. "How is it your place? To stand between these ladies' love?" She looked at Tracey. "Cannot you see it?"

"Joy! Quit it!" Tracey cried, her strong front falling to pieces.

But Joy was not Joy anymore.

"You will pay for what you have done!" Joy screamed before thrusting the knife into Brady's stomach. He screamed in pain as Joy twisted it and then gripped the knife with both hands to jerk it around mercilessly. Joy threw her head back and laughed.

She laughed until the police and EMTs barged in. They drew their guns when they saw this petite little girl laughing her head off with blood dripping down her arms and a dead boy lying in front of her. No one doubted her prints were on the murder weapon. She stood when they entered.

"Put your hands up!" They ordered. Joy stood to face them, a smile on her face. "Get down on the ground!"

"Joy! Please listen to them!" Tracey sobbed. Joy turned to her.

"We will be free with our death, and then we will be together for eternity." She promised, blowing her a kiss. Tracey closed her eyes.

In that second before the gunshots she heard it. She could hear Joy's voice. Whispering;_ "Tracey, I'm scared."_ Two gunshots rang out. Tracey opened her eyes and saw Joy fall to the ground. Her eyes, halfway open.

Her _brown_ eyes.

A/N: So, tell me what you think. Continue, yes? No? Any ideas? Beefs? But as always, be nice.  Obviously the brothers will make an appearance, this is just one of those intros the show always have. They're always the scariest part, in my opinion at least. Anyway, review and I'll post for you. GRACIAS


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: Um, some same sex love implied, not between the brothers. And a little language, that's why the rating is what it is, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: Don't own Sam or Dean any of the WB characters. If I did… well I wouldn't be here, would I?

A/N: Okay, maybe I was spoiled with my first fiction to get that many replies… but I mean this is sad. And I KNOW that people have been looking at it because I saw how many hits it had. (I was pleased with the hits, but very disappointed with the no reviews) and I want to dedicate this to KatieMalfoy19 and supernaturalfan0718 for putting me on the alert list, at least you guys did that much.

I hate to be a slave driver here, but if you like the story and want me to continue, please tell me. I love writing, but I want to know someone is reading! I'm totally fine with a "hey, nice post" or something along those lines. So please please please, if you read, review.

**THANKS! ENJOY!**

Chapter two; Pull Me From Oblivion

He wasn't so sure why he hadn't expected it. He'd dreamt it almost every night for a month. The blood on his forehead… even the treat she'd left for him before he laid down. It was all there, mapped out like some sick joke. But of course, no one is ready for the second your life is thrown into a black hole and then yanked back out again. Like a yo-yo. Sam had been yo-yoing in and out of oblivion since the day Mary Winchester was cremated overhead.

Dean seemed to be the one always pulling the string.

Sam was grateful for his brother. He was grateful he carried him from that house twenty-two years ago. He was grateful that he didn't rub the asylum incident in his nose… well, at least not vocally. But he wasn't grateful for everything. He hated that Dean had pulled him away from Jess. Sam was responsible for what had happened. He deserved to burn away with her.

Dean was always a good yo-yoer. He had stumbled upon the skill during a hunt when he was twelve. The lady at the motel had a daughter, she was eleven if Sam could remember correctly. She had a purple yo-yo. And she was terrible at it. Dean, being the Casanova in training offered to show her "how it was really done". Of course he made a fool out of himself, but somehow he ended up kissing her behind the dumpster anyway. Sam never did understand his older brother's charm.

But the man sure could yo-yo.

Sometimes Sam wished he could just cut the string and fall into the black hole. At least then the pain would stop. Ever since Jessica's death the pain had been worse. The constant ache behind his skull, it was always there. It had become his friend, in actuality, something he could talk to. "Hello Pain, we killed destroyed a racist monster truck today." Or "How are you Pain? Thinking about taking any vacations soon." Unlike Dean, Pain listened and never talked back.

But Sam would certainly dive into oblivion and leave Pain behind if he had the chance.

He just knew Dean would yank him back. Kicking and screaming, Dean would yank him back. He'd probably kick his ass too for being so flipping stupid. And someday Sam would find a way to thank his older brother for keeping that thin string so taunt.

"Shoot." Dean groaned. Sam flipped down the lid of his laptop to look at his older brother. He was staring down at his gray tee-shirt, apparently he'd dropped a spot of ketchup on it. Dean looked at his brother and grabbed the napkin Sam had been saving incase he had a similar accident. "You find anything good?" Dean asked while wiping away the spot, trying not to smear it more. Sam sighed, shaking his head.

"No, not really." He admitted. He read off a few possibilities. "Some chickens were stolen from a local barn… but they figured it was coyotes." He looked at Dean. "Could be something."

"Yeah, coyotes. Come on Sammy, I know you're new and all but are you really that blind to the paranormal?" Dean asked with a wide grin.

"Shut up, and it's Sammy." Sam corrected. Dean rolled his eyes. "Eat your burger and stop being so condescending." Sam smirked_. 'Chew on that one.'_ He thought to himself. He scrolled down the current events list on Hey, it'd been reliable before. Dean grumbled something and sipped his cola.

"Condescending my ass." Dean whispered. "You know Sam…" Sam held up his hand, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought.

"Wait, listen to this." He clicked on the link. "Tuesday, in Storm Lake Iowa, a woman, who her friend claims was possessed, killed another student at Buena Vista College. The cops were forced to shoot and kill her when she refused to comply with their orders." Sam looked at his brother and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"What murderers aren't possessed, Sam?" Dean asked. "Ted Bundy was possessed, just not the possessed we deal with." He sighed and bit into his burger.

"Well, it's this… or the chickens." Sam said with a grin. Dean stared at him for a moment. He set the burger down and spoke, not quite done chewing.

"Get the freaking map, we're going to Iowa." Dean grumbled.

A/N: Now what do you do? Press that purple button! That's right. You review, I post. It's a nice cycle. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: sorry it took me so long to update, but I kind of still have to figure out where this is going.  So, any ideas? Tell me. I appreciate any and all. READ AND REVIEW

Chapter three; Are You Insane If You're Right?

"Any witnesses?" Dean asked. Sam re-read the article. He nodded.

"Yeah, one. The girl… Tracey Scott. She saw the whole thing." Sam explained. "But I'm not sure we'll get to talk to her."

"Why not?" Dean asked, stopping the car at a red light. He looked around. There were no cars. So he just went through. After an accusing glare from Sam, Dean looked at his little brother. "Why…?" He asked again.

"Well, it says here she's in a mental institution… and it wasn't obligatory. She's obviously having some serious issues, I'm not sure how reliable of a source she'd be." Sam admitted. Dean shrugged.

"Well…she saw something, maybe we just need to convince her she's not crazy."

Storm Lake Psychiatric Ward

"What the hell kind of store sells scrubs?" Sam whispered. Dean grinned at him and walked up to the front desk. He took a quick peek at the lady's name tag.

"Morning, Greta." He said with a handsome smile. "You're looking lovely today." Greta looked up at him, her red hair cascading over her shoulder. She smiled.

"Do I know you?" She asked, her face still smiling pleasantly. Dean looked back at Sam and then at Greta.

"I guess it must get hard to keep everyone straight, all these handsome new interns coming in all the time." He leaned over the counter. "But um, I've been wanting to ask you something for a while…" Sam cleared his throat and Dean stepped on his foot. "You want to go out some time?" He asked. Greta's smile changed to a smirk. She handed them two identification cards.

"From now on, just tell me you lost them." She whispered, making sure he saw her wedding ring. Dean nodded.

"Thanks." He whispered and then walked away. He shoved the card into Sam's open hand. "Never underestimate my knowledge of women, Sammy my boy." They walked towards the psychiatric ward.

You never really know what to expect when you go see crazy people. Dean expected them all to be walking around, with helmets and mittens tied to their hands. He expected the floor to be covered in safety mat and anything and everything that could have been a weapon would he either wrapped in plastic or behind locked doors. Sam on the other hand expected them all to be tied to a bed, the entire room bare, the only sounds to be those of the patients agonized cries.

It was somewhere between that.

"That's her." Sam whispered, pointing to a girl with long black hair sitting on her bed, rocking back and forth, sitting in what would Dean would have considered the fetal position. "Let me talk to her." Sam whispered. Dean shook his head.

"No way man, I'm the cute one." Dean whispered and walked over to her. He sat next to her on her bed and she looked at him, dark circles around both eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. "Hello Tracey, my name is Dean."

"I don't want to talk about it." She whispered and put her head back down. Dean looked across the room at Sam, who was currently having a stare down with another patient. Dean rolled his eyes. Sammy could be such a tool at times. "You know… don't you? What really happened... it wasn't Joy. Joy would never do something like that. Her eyes were green when she killed him, but Joy has brown eyes." She shook her head, putting it down again. "And this." She lifted her shirt slowly. She looked directly into Dean's eyes, shaking her head. "Mom and Step-daddy would never let me get a tattoo." She looked at it. "Uh uh. Nope." She ran her finger along what looked like an intricate tattoo. "She had one too. And he had the full one. It hurt. It won't come off."

"Tracey, who killed your friend?" Dean asked quietly. Tracey stared at him, her eyes twitching around the room every so often. She leaned in close to whisper in Dean's ear.

"She's still here, you know." She whispered. "She's got her eyes on you." Dean pulled away and looked at her. "You're dead." She whispered and started to laugh. She threw her head back and laughed and laughed. Dean watched her in horror. He almost sucker punched Sam when he grabbed his shoulder.

"Whoa, you okay?" Sam asked and grabbed Dean's fist. Dean nodded. Both brothers were extraordinarily pale.

"Uh, yeah, are you?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. "What?"

"Let's just get out of here."

While Dean had been busy wooing the girl with a few missing brain cells Sam was trying to ward away the really bad vibe he was getting. He swore that man in the corner of the room was staring at him. Not just staring at him, but _staring through_ him. He could see something. Something they had in common.

Sam took a step back when he got up from his bed. Of course, the one man who decides to go all psycho killer is the one without ankle straps binding him to the bed. He regarded Sam thoughtfully before grabbing his hand. Man, if he had to snatch the fly from the air he'd definitely be able to do it. 'You are ready young Grasshopper.' And Sam might have said it if he hadn't been so freaking weirded out by the whole thing.

"You see them too." He whispered, his eyes popping out of their sockets, or at least Sam thought they were.

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about." Sam whispered and yanked his hand away.

"The visions. You see them." He whispered. He put his finger on Sam's forehead. "I see the blood, it never washes away, does it?" Sam pushed past him in time to see Dean freaking out.

Okay, time to leave. Sam knocked his hand down and started to walk towards his brother who was standing rigid. The man grabbed his arm and Sam turned. His eyes were white, like they were rolling back in his head and Sam's first thought was that he was having a stroke or something. But then they rolled back and they were black. Suddenly the gentle hold the man had had on Sam's arm turned into a vise grip.

"Your family will die, Samuel. You won't be able to stop that." Then he let go and his eyes faded back to normal. Sam stared at him, his eyes wide. The man staggered and looked at Sam curiously. "Can I help you?" The crazy man asked. "I all ready took my meds…" Sam shook his head and walked towards his brother, grabbing his arm and dodging the fist that was bound to follow it.

Dean was pale. Boy was he pale. He was as white as those walls. They needed to get out of there and fast.

"Whoa, you okay?" Sam asked and held Dean's fist gently, though he knew by the look on his brother's face that, "no, he wasn't okay." Dean swallowed and nodded slowly, dropping his fist to his side.

"Uh, yeah, are you?" Dean asked, breathing heavily. Sam shook his head, he was tempted to tell him about the crazy man's little episode. "What?" But the look on Dean's face proved to Sam that he had had just about all the weird he could handle for right now.

"Let's just get out of here."

A/N: Just so no one gets mad at me, I have never been to Storm Lake and I only know about it because I was looking for towns with unusual or creepy names and that was the best one I found. I have never been to Iowa, so basically everything I describe that is there would be my imagination. Sorry if I anger anyone, but I've never been out of the Northwest… well I've been to Mexico… but that won't help me here. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So, okay, it may seem a little Mary Sue-ish here… well actually I don't think it does because she annoys the hell out of me (you'll see) but yeah, I dislike Mary Sue-ism and I don't really want to give the boys a girlfriend b/c for now I like them single, they can worry about girls once they have everything else fixed. 

I was wondering… I've been searching endlessly for this story… about the boys and they're at this quaint little Bed and Breakfast, the owners are Betty and Earl. They find an graveyard in the woods and there is a banshee… ring any bells? Because I lost it and I REALLY want to find it. I searched for like an hour for it and I am going to be really upset about it if I never find it. So if anyone knows tell me and I'll give you a cookie… actually I'll just post for you. THANKS

* * *

**Chapter four; Protectors**

When Sam had taken to the part of taking care of his brother, he wasn't sure. Probably after Dean's little run in with a stun gun and a puddle. It's strange. Dean fought danger for four years without Sam's knowledge, but his own fault is what almost killed him. And what would have had Sam not been there. As bad as Sam felt for the death of that man, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if it was the only way to save his brother.

He'd do just about anything to keep his brother here, with him.

They'd never known how to love each other the right way. It was like they loved each other so much they had to pretend otherwise. It's what kept Sam from crying like a baby at Dean's bedside when he told him he was going to die. It's what kept Dean from admitting how worried he really was about Sam's visions.

But it also kept them strong.

Love made them weak. Tears made them a target. They couldn't afford to be vulnerable, ever. Dean understood that. Sam didn't want to.

Neither of them had really spoken since they left the hospital. Dean cleared his throat and turned the radio down a little.

"You hungry?" Dean asked. Sam grinned, some things never changed. Growing up Dean had an insatiable appetite, but of course Sam was the one who got chubby. Dean had always been on the lean side, until he hit adulthood. He wasn't fat by any means, but the tables had turned. Sam could eat without worrying, but Dean would gain two or three pounds with every week full of fast food. Of course chasing after ghosts and demons did keep one in shape.

"We ate like, two hours ago." Sam reminded him. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, exactly. I'm hungry again." Dean explained. Sam shrugged. "You want food?" He nodded. "Good. You don't look so good."

"And that from ghostly-pale over here?" Sam asked dubiously. Dean gave him a look. "What freaked you out back there?" Dean let a small grin grow on his lips.

"She rejected me." Dean whispered in mock horror. "Proves what I've thought all along." He explained and turned into the old restaurant parking lot.

"And what is that?" Sam asked. Dean flashed him that famous cocky grin.

"You have to be crazy to reject Dean Winchester."

"You boys look like you've seen a ghost." The waitress said with a smile. Dean smiled at Sam and Sam looked back with a warning gaze. Dean looked at her.

"Nope, just a beautiful girl." He bit the inside of his lip and looked her over. "Blue is your color." He said, noting the buttons on her blouse that were not quite fastened securely. She smiled.

"Why thank you." She said with genuine happiness. He got out her notepad and the pen from behind her overly pierced ear. "What can I get you two, today?" She asked. "Besides my phone number." She added, pointing the pen at Dean. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Damn, now I have to go over the menu again." Dean grabbed the menu. Sam rolled his eyes disgustedly. She looked at Sam and he couldn't help but notice how much she looked like Jessica. They could have been sisters, maybe even twins. She had brown hair and brown eyes, but something about her… it screamed Jess. She too seemed to find something familiar in Sam.

"Do I know you?" She asked, pointing her pen now at Sam. Dean looked at her and then at Sam, suspicion on his face. Sam shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't think we've ever met." Sam said honestly. "I'm Sam." She nodded.

"I think I knew that." She said quietly. "Oh, I'm Lisa… but gosh, you look so darn familiar. I would never forget that cute face." She reached out and ruffled his hair. "And this way adorable hair!" Sam smiled bashfully. Dean coughed into his fist. Sam looked at him and then back at Lisa.

"Oh, this is my older brother Dean." Sam said softly. Lisa smiled at Dean but instantly turned her attention back to Sam. He saw his older brother shake his head dismissively and scam the room for other hot waitresses. "I went to Stanford… did we meet there ever?" Sam asked. Lisa laughed, a beautiful noise that made Dean looked at her. But his attention was directed away just as quickly.

"Oh no. I've never been out of Iowa. Or Storm Lake, actually." She shrugged. "I'm a small town girl through and through."

"So is Sam." Dean butted in and then pulled out of the conversation again. Sam glared at him and Lisa laughed again. "I think I'll get a bacon cheeseburger." Dean told her. Lisa's eyes grew.

"Oh, so sorry. I'm sure you want to eat." She wrote down Dean's order. "Fries?" He nodded. "And… a chocolate milkshake?" She asked. Dean nodded.

"How'd you know?" He asked, looking at her with adoration in his eyes. She smiled and shrugged in an overly ditzy way they both thought was adorable… surprisingly.

"I just know these things. It's my calling." She explained and then laughed. "Great calling, right?" They both nodded. "And Sammy…" She smiled at him. "You want a… barbeque chicken sandwich with raspberry lemonade." He nodded.

"Sounds delicious." He said with a grin. She nodded.

"Oh it is. It's my favorite." She whispered and took their menus. "I'll be back in jiff." She skipped off. They both leaned out of their booth to watch her. They looked at each other.

"Dude, way to steal her." Dean whispered. Sam leaned forward.

"Get over yourself Dean, she was interested in me. Not all girls are into your jerky technique of flirting." Sam hissed. Dean kicked him under the table. Sam tried to kick him back, but Dean had pulled his legs up. Dean laughed at him, but Sam found his leg and that shut him up real quick. Dean grumbled something Sam chose not to hear.

"Hey!" Someone screamed. There was a loud crash and more screaming. Sam and Dean jumped to their feet. They watched a man, who had obviously had too much to drink grab Lisa and hold a broken bottle to her neck. Sam and Dean ran over towards him. He saw them and pushed the bottle closer to her neck. They stopped.

"Come any closer and I kill her." His words slurred. Lisa looked fearfully at the sharp glass. Sam held his hands out, the universal "calm down" sign.

"Hey, man, just let her go. We can talk this out. No one needs to get hurt." Sam said calmly. He saw Dean going towards the gun in his belt and elbowed him in the gut. People were leaving the restaurant and the drunk was getting nervous and agitated. Lisa whimpered when he pushed the bottle close enough to break skin.

"Look, someone is going to call the police. They'll be here and they're going to shoot you if you have a hostage." Dean said simply. The man's eyes got huge and he started at Dean. He nodded. "Yeah. In the head." Dean explained as though he were talking to a five year old. "You'll die instantly." Sam glared at him.

"Dean!" He yelled angrily. The man flinched and dropped the bottle. Lisa twisted in his arms, elbowing him in the face and pining him down on the ground, his arm twisted painfully behind his back.

"Take me hostage?" She screamed and shoved his face into the sticky ground of the bar. "I hope this teaches you a lesson!" She said angrily. Dean ran over and pulled her off.

"Okay, honey. I think he gets it." Dean whispered as he carried her away, kicking and squirming.

"No! That numb-nuts cut me!" She screamed. Dean set her down roughly on a booth table and lifted her chin so he could look at the cut. Sam was helping the man to his feet, his forehead was bleeding from hitting the ground.

"It's a little scratch." Dean explained and looked at her. She was royally pissed off. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she was glaring at him.

"I'll give you a little scratch…" She grumbled. She sighed and pointed to her cheek. "Kiss me and make me feel better." She demanded. That didn't go unnoticed by either brother. Dean did it happily. Sam looked away and helped the man sit on the closest bar stool.

"Better?" Dean asked. She smiled teasingly and shook her head. She pointed to the corner of her lips.

"I think I need it here." She whispered. Dean complied. They both looked at each other. Dean stared at her lips.

"Oh, you know… I think he gave you a split lip." He lied. She raised her eyebrows.

"Really?" She asked with fake shock. He nodded. "Oh, well you'd better kiss it, you know, just to be safe."

"You think?" Dean asked. She nodded. "Oh, I don't know…" He was about to lean in, when someone grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him back. He turned around and looked at Sam. He was obviously in pain. "You've gotta be kidding me." Dean groaned and grabbed Sam before he fell forward.

"Oh my God, what's wrong with him?" Lisa asked, jumping off the table. Dean looked at her.

"Migraines. Can you go get some aspirin or something?" Dean asked. Lisa nodded and ran into the backroom. "Sam." Dean whispered, lifting his brother's face. Sam gave him that look and Dean knew he was having a vision.

_"You will pay for coming between them!" A woman screamed. Dean was sitting on the ground, Sam's body in his arms. _

_"You sick, bitch!" Dean yelled. "If you hurt him…" He looked down at Sam and shook him gently. "Sam, Sammy, hey, you have to wake up." He hugged him to his chest, Sam's head rolling to the side. _

_He was able to himself. His face moments before death. He was stony pale and had blood running down his face. _

_Dean had something running down his face…but it wasn't blood. It was tears. Dean was crying. And the woman laughing… it was Lisa. He saw her green eyes gleam in the moonlight before she lunged. _

Sam shot up with a yell. He panted heavily as he looked around the room. Someone pressed a cold towel to his forehead.

"He's awake!" Lisa called. She was sitting next to him on the bed, her legs underneath her. She had changed into jean shorts and a yellow tank top. Sam scooted away from her. "Sam, it's me, Lisa. It's okay." She whispered gently. Sam looked at her. Her eyes weren't green. They were brown, dark brown. No way they could ever look green. They were almost black they were so brown.

Dean walked into the room and smiled at his brother. "Hey sleeping beauty. Have a good dream?" He said, his voice getting a little louder on the word 'dream'. Sam nodded.

"Yeah… I'll tell you about it later." He climbed out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower. Show me how to work this shower, again?" He whispered and pushed Dean into the bathroom.

"Dude, you sounded so incredibly gay back there…" Dean started. Sam covered his mouth. He had no time for Dean's crap.

"Shut up." Sam hissed. "Dude, my vision, she killed me." Might as well get to the chase. Dean frowned and knocked his hand away.

"Lisa?" He asked. Sam nodded. "There must be more to the story. She wouldn't kill you."

"Well… her eyes were green in the dream. And her eyes are brown, very brown." Sam noticed Dean got visibly rigid. "What, what is it?"

"It's just that… that Tracey girl said that her friend's eyes were green when she killed that guy… but she had brown eyes for as long as Tracey had known her." Dean whispered.

"So something is possessing them… but why would it go after me?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged. "Well, what else did Tracey tell you?"

"Um… she said something about a tattoo." Dean scratched his head. "And mentioned something about me being dead." He said quickly. Sam grabbed his arm.

"Whoa, wait, what?" Sam almost yelled. Dean looked at him. "Dean, why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"I didn't think it was important." Dean admitted lamely. Sam looked at him.

"Someone tells you you're going to die and you don't think that's important?" Sam asked in disbelief. Dean shrugged.

"Apparently not… but she mentioned something about her still being there. I thought she was talking about Joy, but maybe she was talking about what possessed Joy." Dean explained.

"So we need to find out whose doing the possession and what the connection is between Tracey and Joy and us." He sighed. "Dean… that man in the hospital… he channeled something…"

"Guys, did you fall in the toilet or something?" Lisa asked gently and tapped on the door. Dean looked at Sam.

"Tell me later." Dean whispered and opened the door. Lisa smiled at them. She definitely had brown eyes. But Sam still saw the potential for evil in her. He couldn't shake it out of his system.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so another post. I hope you like it. Um, and questions at all, go ahead and email me or leave me a review… I like reviews.  READ, REVIEW, ENJOY!

**Chapter five; Broken Message**

"So, what were you saying earlier?" Dean asked as he shoved a hamburger into his mouth. Sam looked at him disgustedly. "About the guy at the loony bin…"

"Dean…" Sam scolded, but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, um, well he was crazy." Sam explained. Dean frowned.

"Yeah Sam, that's the whole reason he was there." Dean whispered. He reached across the table to feel Sam's forehead. "You feeling all right?" Sam hit his hand away.

"I'm fine, dude. Let me finish my sentences." Sam said with a smile. "He told me that I couldn't stop my family from dying… Dean with that and what Tracey said to you… I'm worried, man." Dean shrugged.

"Hey, look at me." Dean said in a low voice. Sam looked at him and they held each other's gaze. "Nothing is going to happen." Dean assured him. "We'll take care of this like we would anything else." He stood up. "I'm gunna take a piss then we're going to the library."

STORM LAKE—LIBRARY

"What are you searching?" Dean asked and looked over Sam's shoulder. Sam sighed heavily, he really disliked that rude habit that Dean had of always looking over his shoulder.

"Any murders or suicides in the area…" Sam pointed to one. "The Elizabeth Walton one might be something. She jumped out of her window after…" Sam paused.

"After what?" Dean asked. Sam smiled to himself, didn't Dean know how to read?

"After her lover, an accused witch, Alana Gold, was burned at the stake." Sam explained. "Two nights after her death, Elizabeth's husband was found dead, a heart carved into his chest."

"Heart?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"Um, it says here that when her body was found, Elizabeth had cut two half hearts on her wrists." Sam looked at Dean. "What?" Dean swallowed.

"We found our bitch." He whispered.

STORM LAKE—PSYCHIATRIC WARD

"What are we doing back here?" Sam whispered as they walked down the hall towards the familiar room. Dean looked at him.

"Tracey mentioned something about a heart… I want to see if the names Elizabeth Walton or Alana Gold ring any bells." Dean explained. Sam paused outside the door. "You want to wait outside?" Sam nodded slowly. "Okay." Dean was suspicious, but he was in a hurry so he didn't press for questions.

DEAN

He walked straight to Tracey's bed. She was sitting "crisscross applesauce" on the bed, coloring with crayons. Soft, waxy crayons. Dean guessed those were the only things safe enough.

"Hi Tracey, remember me?" Dean asked softly and sat on the chair next to her bed. She nodded without looking up.

"You're not dead, yet." She said with a small smile. "That's good."

"Look Tracey, I know you're not crazy." Dean whispered. Tracey dropped the red crayon in her hand and looked at him slowly. Her eyes were glassy and she was clearly insane. "Do the names Elizabeth Walton and Alana Gold mean anything to you?" She suddenly cowered in fear and grabbed her pillow to hug tightly.

"Did you see her, too?" Tracey asked, tears in her eyes. "That's who killed Brady."

"Elizabeth?" Dean asked, scooting closer to the bed. Tracey shook her head and buried her face in her pillow.

"The witch did." She whispered as she raised her head slowly. "Because Joy loved me… but we were with Brady…" She looked left to right as if someone was going to be listening… perhaps someone was. "He heard whispering and then he flew across the room. I mean, how else could he have gotten from the door to the window that fast?"

"Tracey, do you know why Alana killed Brady? Why did she choose you three?" Dean asked softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Tracey asked. Dean just stared. Tracey laughed softly, she was hysterical. "Joy, she thought she was a witch…" She smiled. "I thought she was crazy." She laughed again and looked around her. "And I'm the one in the crazy bin." Dean smiled softly. "Alana is helping her fellow witches." Tracey explained. Before Dean could even blink, she was holding his hand. "Dean, you and your brother have to be careful. You can't trust everyone." She sighed and let his hand go.

"Tracey… but how did Alana bring you and Joy together?" Dean asked softly. Tracey looked at him.

"We'll be together when I die." She whispered. "That's why I'm here. No matter where I am, something tries to kill me. They have me pegged as insane. Dean, she's trying to finish the job."

"I won't let that happen." Dean assured her. She grabbed his hand again. Dean could feel the wax remnants of crayons caked onto her fingers. Her hands were shaking that way over medicated shake.

"Dean… you have to be careful." She whispered. He nodded.

"I always am."

"Be careful of your brother." She whispered. Dean was about to answer, but something distracted him.

"No! No!" They heard someone moan. Dean whirled around and saw the old man in the corner of the room thrashing around on his bed. It was the same one Sam had been talking to.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, he had his head in the doorway. He was clutching his head with one hand, and his other was on the doorknob for balance. Dean looked at the old man and then at his brother. "Come on!" Sam hissed. Dean got to his feet.

Sam blinked and then the ground came up to meet him.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, so long authors note here. I've got some serious questions for you all. What does AU stand for? It would be really good to know.

Also, I'm hearing some rumors about the WB combining with some other station? What is that about, its like the CW or something along those lines? What is this about? (I also read that Supernatural is supposed to be a SHOE IN, and that is good, I guess, I really don't know anything about this.)

And another, wasn't Shadow amazing? OMG! Sam and Dean's moment before going to the warehouse… I was so excited! Jensen Ackles is a God! I LOVE HIM! And it was so exciting. Seriously, I haven't been scared by that show since Bloody Mary and that one scene in Dead in the Water (when you see the dead boy's head half submerged, seriously almost screamed) but when the Shadow things came the second time in their room I screamed! That episode was just… amazing. I loved everything about it. PERFECT! Sorry, I'll stop or I'll go on all day!

THANKS FOR READING AND NOW YOU CAN REVIEW TOO!

**Chapter six; You Can't Trust Everyone (warning, slight language)**

"_Be strong, my love. For he will never rest. And now that we are together for eternity we will punish him and his kind. For they are the ones that are ill." Lisa yelled at the top of her lungs as she stood atop the rock cliff, staring dangerously over the edge. She turned her head back, her eyes gleaming green, and let the side of her mouth quirk into a demonic smile. "Death does nothing but free you." She whispered. The wind carried the sweet voice to his ears long after she had fallen. _

"Lisa!" Sam yelled as he sat up. He looked around the room wildly. It was the same dirty motel room. It was dark now and he was wearing the same clothes he had worn to dinner. He faintly remembered passing out on the bed after a horrible headache finally subsided. He was shaking and covered in sweat.

"Sam." Dean whispered. Sam was now aware of the strong grip Dean had on his shoulder. "Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked again. Sam nodded, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He whispered. Dean looked at him skeptically. "Really, it was just a nightmare."

"It's never _just_ a nightmare with you." Dean reminded him. Sam shrugged Dean's hand off his shoulder.

"Well, this time it is."

"Well I don't believe you." Dean said simply. "Lisa killed you again, didn't she?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. "What happened then? Sam, you passed out at the hospital! Do you know how many questions I had to dodge! Your nose started bleeding and they wanted to give you an MRI…"

"It was just a dream, Dean!" Sam yelled. "About puppies and rainbows! Now shut the hell up and let me go back to sleep." Sam ordered. Dean got that look on his face, that angry _"you always want to talk, well we're going to fucking talk!"_ look. He stood up and yanked the blankets off of Sam's bed.

"Damn it Sam! You wake up screaming and you expect me to believe it's just a plain nightmare? You don't have normal dreams, Sam! You said it yourself, they come true! Now whatever the hell you dreamed about freaked you out, now are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" Dean was to that point. Why couldn't Sam see that he was worried? He was scared out of his mind. Sam sat up.

"You're going to hit me, Dean?" He asked daringly. Sam stood up and walked over to Dean, standing close enough for their chests to touch. Sam looked down at Dean. "But big brother, Dad wouldn't agree to that." He said mockingly. "It's your job to protect me and that's all you ever comprehend, isn't it, Dean?" Sam shoved him. "You're too God damn pathetic to do anything Dad wouldn't approve of."

"Like his good little soldier, huh Sammy?" Dean asked bitterly. Sam just wanted Dean to take a swing. Hit him right in the face. That's what Sam wanted. He needed that pain to wake him up.

"Hey Dean, in case you've missed it, Dad doesn't want us to find him." Sam whispered. "Did he call when you were reported as dead when we fought that shapeshifter up at Stanford?" Sam asked and answered his own question with an over exaggerated shake of his head. "No, he didn't. Did he call when you were sick and dying in a hospital bed? NO! He didn't Dean because he doesn't care about us! He never has!" That did it.

Dean threw his fist at Sam's face. He felt his knuckles split against Sam's jaw. Sam toppled back onto the bed and Dean pined his arms down.

"Sam…" Dean bit down on his flow of words. He let Sam go, hurried to grab his coat and stormed out of the hotel room. Sam held his jaw.

He felt like an ass, and yet he felt better than he had in a really long time. He was so pissed at his father for deserting them like that… for deserting Dean. Dean was always there for their father. Dean always had the utmost adoration for their father, never questioning him, never defying him. Sam couldn't understand how he could just leave Dean like that, after all Dean had sacrificed to join in his crusade.

John was the one who deserved to be suffering.

**DEAN**

Dean shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He knew Sam wasn't thinking clearly. He was angry and Dean saw the hurt in his eyes when he said those things, but still… Maybe he had really meant all that he had said back at that asylum.

It sent shivers through Dean.

Wait, no.

That didn't send the shivers.

Dean stopped in his tracks and looked around. Someone was watching him. He knew that feeling anywhere. It was a hunter's instinct. It was dark so the stalker had a good advantage. Dean cursed himself silently for being so careless. He didn't have a weapon or anything.

Wait. His cell phone. He reached into his pocket and dialed Sam's cell.

"Damn it Sammy, pick up the phone." Dean whispered urgently, eyeing those pair of approaching headlights cautiously.

**SAM**

He knew it was Dean. Part of him wanted to smash the phone under his feet and the other half wanted to dive on it and apologize. He settled with letting it ring four times.

"What?" He answered rudely.

_"Sam?"_ Dean asked and Sam could tell he was running. Sam's heart jumped up his throat, preceded by his dinner. He swallowed it back down.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, rising to his feet.

_"Something is chasing me."_ Dean whispered.

**DEAN **

Dean stopped and crouched behind a tree. It was doubtful the car would drive across the field. He heard the doors slam shut and he crouched lower.

_"Who?"_ Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes.

"If I knew Sam, I'd tell you." Dean whispered.

"_Do you know what they want? Or why they're chasing you? Dean are they armed? Can you get out of there?"_ He was firing off questions like a machine gun.

"Sam, take a breath. I don't think they see me." Dean whispered. He felt the phone slide from his hand slowly. Something hard jammed into his back.

"Turn around slowly." A female voice ordered. Dean raised his hands in the air and turned slowly.

"Can I say goodbye…" Dean whispered, motioning towards the phone. She tossed it on the ground and Dean went to reach for it, and she pulled the trigger.

**SAM **

"DEAN!" Sam yelled when he heard the gunshot and the line went dead. Sam threw his phone down and grabbed two handfuls of his hair.

Okay, the first thing he had to remember was not to panic. He didn't do any good sitting there panicking… but that's all he could do. He didn't know where Dean was, who had him, if he was hurt or anything. And what if Dean was dead? No. Not after that fight. After all fate had taken from them, it would not take Dean now, not now. Not after that. Sam had always expected Dean to die in his arms where he could hold him and tell him goodbye and that he loved him, not like this, not across town all alone in some sicko's basement. Dean was too good for that. In the least Dean should die saving his brother.

Dean had mentioned something about a field. And he had walked so he couldn't have been far at all. Sam opened the curtains of the window and looked out as far as he could in the dark. There was a field across the highway, maybe that's the field Dean was referring to.

Sam grabbed his coat and opened the door. He froze and smiled uncomfortably at Lisa. She smiled back.

"Uh, Lisa, it's like, four o'clock in the morning. What are you doing here?" Sam asked curiously. She let herself in and sat down on the nearest bed. Sam shut the door, he really didn't have time for this.

"Where is Dean?" She asked and gave him a smile he really didn't like. Sam stepped towards her. "You don't know, do you?" She taunted, cocking her head to the side. Sam grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet.

"Where is my brother?" He hissed. Lisa looked at his hand.

"You'd better let go of me, Samuel. I'd really hate to hurt you." She whispered. Sam grabbed her other hand.

"Where is Dean?" He yelled again. She sighed heavily.

"Oh, you'll get to see him, Sam." She whispered and yanked her hands away. "Soon." She added and Sam felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down at the syringe she had just stuck in him. Before he could react she injected the serum and Sam dropped to his knees. She knelt down. "Oh and by the way… I met you at one of Jess's birthday parties. My name is actually Hannah. Jessica introduced us. We were childhood friends, everyone always though we were sisters." She sighed and stroked his cheek, pushing him roughly to the ground. She straddled his waist. He had roughly two minutes before he lost consciousness. She leaned towards his face so their lips were almost touching. "You and her had just started met and I came into your bedroom that night and you thought I was her…" She whispered and brushed her lips across his. "I'm glad that little bitch got hers… she came between us." She sighed heavily. "And now your bitch brother is going to get his too."

Then the world went red and slowly faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, I've got some serious questions for you all. What does AU stand for? It would be really good to know.  NO ONE ANSWERED ME LAST TIME SO I'M ASKING AGAIN!

WARNING: Some language and I guess there is a little bit of torture…

THANKS FOR READING AND NOW YOU CAN REVIEW TOO!

**Chapter seven; The Truth Unfolds**

Sam opened his eyes. He tried to move and quickly found that was impossible. He was sitting on cold cement floor, tied against a wooden post. It was so tight he could barely breath, let alone stand up. He blinked and tried to adjust to the dim lighting.

He could see a silhouette in the middle of the room. He squinted and could barely make out that familiar spiked hair.

"Dean!" He yelled and saw his brother's head jerk upwards. Dean was standing in the middle of the room, his hands chained above his head from the ceiling.

"Sam, is that you?" Dean asked with a rough voice. Sam sighed heavily. God he was so relieved to hear Dean's voice. "Are you okay?" Dean asked.

"Okay. How about you?" Sam asked, hoping his response was similar.

"I'm really confused." Dean admitted. Sam laughed dryly.

"What else is new?" He asked and got a snort in reply. "It's Lisa… actually Hannah. She knew Jessica growing up." He groaned as he shifted and the rough wood scraped his back. "She's obsessed with me."

"What is up with the chicks in the town?" Dean yelled. He tugged uselessly on the chains. "Any chance you can get free?" Dean asked.

"No, these ropes are too tight." Sam admitted disappointedly. "Dean you have to get out of here. She's going to kill you."

"Really? I thought she just wanted to look at me." Dean said sarcastically. He twisted his body around and bit his lips against the pain as his shoulders stretched to the limit. "Damn, this girl is smart, nothing is within reaching distance. But there is a plethora," Sam laughed. "In your face college boy, I've looked through Webster. As I was saying, there is a _plethora_ of sharp objects on that wall… any one of them could free us." Dean sighed. "Well, I might as well catch you up on the situation… you passed out before I could fill you in at the hospital…" _And we had that huge fight when we got home_. "But apparently Alana's ghost is helping bring other witches to their true loves…"

"Dean, that's great, but that has nothing to do with this!" Sam said angrily. Why did have to be so carefree when he was about to die? Dean ignored him and kept on going.

"So, since she was burned at the stake there are no bones to get rid of, so I'm thinking that the only way to destroy her is to confuse her into killing a fellow witch… or something. We should really…"

"Dean, will you stop? We have to get out of here!" Sam yelled angrily. Suddenly the light turned on and Sam closed his eyes against the brightness of it.

"Hey Witch!" Dean said with a grin as Lisa… or Hannah, walked into the room. "Why don't you tell Sam that heart warming tale about you and Jessica that you told me?" Dean asked. Hannah glared at him and punched him hard in the stomach. He groaned. "Come on, he'll love it." He whispered breathlessly. Hannah smiled at Sam. She knelt down at his feet.

"I told your brother about how Jessica and I grew up together, playing witches during the day…" Sam saw Dean smile triumphantly. "And how she wanted the power to make anyone fall in the love with her and I wanted the power to counter her power. She was always the one the boys liked, I was just 'Jessie's ugly friend.'" Dean laughed.

"Honey, being ugly had nothing to do with it. It was probably because you're fucking insane!" He yelled. Sam saw her face darken. But she looked at him and smiled. Hannah reached out to touch Sam's cheek, he tried in vain to pull away, but there was no where to go.

"And then, when we met you at that party… Sam, it was love at first sight. I wanted you more than anything. But you walked over and went right to Jessica." She grabbed a handful of his hair and he winced. "I could have killed her… but then I came into your room that night and you thought it was her." She smiled. "You are a wonderful kisser, Sam."

"You're a strange girl, Hannah." Dean laughed. "That's pathetic, you know that right?" Dean asked. Hannah ignored him.

"I tried to tell Jess that I liked you, but she liked you too. She came between us… just like your brother has been trying to do." She looked back accusingly at Dean. He raised his eyebrows.

"I don't want you." He assured her. "Insane does not turn me on." She got up and walked towards him.

"You're worthless, you know that?" Hannah asked and put her hand on Dean's chest. "You think you're so charming… you're just a big dork." Dean winced.

"Oh man, no one has called me that since grade school." Dean whispered. "It hurts." He said sarcastically. "What are you trying to do here, Hannah?" Dean asked. "Sam doesn't want you."

"You're right, he wants you." Hannah said sadly. "He loves his big brother… he did miss you, Dean." She said softly. "And now, after almost losing you once before, he'd do anything to keep you around." She smiled delightfully. "Even give me what I want."

"And what would that be?" Sam asked. Hannah looked at him.

"Your child." She whispered softly. Dean laughed.

"Wow, now I know you're crazy!" He yelled. "Why would you want Sam's kid? He was a real awkward looking baby, all fat and bald… plus your genes won't improve its looks much."

"Shut up!" She hollered and threw her elbow at his ribs. He did shut up. "Thank you!" She yelled angrily. She walked over to Sam and put a knife in his hands. "Feel free to free yourself." She said happily. "But know…" She walked over to Dean and smiled up at him. She put a collar around his neck. "That if you do anything but what I tell you to do…" She showed him the little red button on her bracelet. She looked at Dean. "I had a dog once, but he got hit by a car… I made some special alterations to his shock collar." She pressed the button and Dean tried not to scream. Instead his back arched and he twisted around on the chains.

"Stop!" Sam yelled. Hannah released the button and smiled like she was proud of herself.

"It's not quite as powerful as those stun guns you cranked up stupidly high." She looked at Dean. "You talk a lot in a drug induced slumber. You're a real moron you know that? Didn't you ever learn that water conducts electricity?" Dean smiled sarcastically. "Like I said, not as powerful… but if I hold it down long enough, it could be." She sighed. "It'd be a real shame to lose him now, wouldn't it Sam?"

Hannah watched as Sam cut himself free. When he was free she gave him a moment to stretch his sore muscles.

"Okay, what do you want me to do?" Sam asked. Hannah smiled.

"First, put the knife down." She ordered. He set it down. "Kick it over to me." He did. "Okay, now, stand still." She walked over to him and stood right in front of him. "Relax Sam, you liked it so much the first time." Dean closed his eyes as she grabbed his face and kissed him.

"This is so gross." Dean groaned. She held out her wrist so he could see the bracelet and he closed his mouth. Hannah put her hands on Sam's face and deepened the kiss. Sam stood stiff as a board, but she grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist. She reached for his shirt.

A cold breeze ran through the room and Sam pushed Hannah away and she fell on the floor. "Sam!" She shrieked. "That wasn't very nice." She dramatically pressed the button and Dean started twisting again. "Apologize and I'll stop."

Sam looked slowly at Dean and then at Hannah. With a flick of his wrist the collar fell away from Dean's neck and the chains broke. Dean landed in a pile on the ground. Hannah's eyes grew wide.

"Wha…" She whispered and scrambled to her feet. "How did you…" Sam smiled slowly, his eyes green and glowing in the florescent lighting.

"You came between this man and his true love!" Sam yelled in an unfamiliar vibrato. Hannah backed up. "Just because she is dead does not mean their love is dead!" He added. Sam held out his hand and the knife flew to him. He gripped the handle and turned over his wrist so he could carve a heart on his wrist.

"Sam! What are you doing?" Hannah yelled. She took a step towards him, but something threw her back against the wall, against the wall of sharp objects. Hitting any one of them would have killed her, but it just so happened that she hit three; two saws and one pick axe. All three impaled her. But before she bled to death, a heart was carved upon her chest.

"Sammy…" Dean groaned and struggled his feet. Sam was standing there, staring at his bleeding wrist. "Where is Hannah…" Sam didn't answer, but Dean saw her bloody body lying in a heap on the ground. "What happened?"

"Death does nothing but free us." Sam whispered. "Be strong, my love." Dean took a step back.

"Okay, Sam would never say that… or at least I would hope so." Dean stared at Sam for a moment. "Alana?" He asked softly. Sam raised his head.

"You are just as guilty as she." Sam whispered. "You took him away from her and she died!" He still had the knife in his hand.

"Sam, if you're in there…" Dean walked backwards towards the door. Sam laughed.

"Do not fear death, it only sets you free." Sam explained.

"Dude, that is the biggest load of crap ever and you know that. Sam come on, fight her!" Dean searched his brother's—or maybe they were Alana's—green eyes. "I didn't know she was going to die." Dean whispered finally. Sam froze. "Neither did he. If anything came between them it was the demon that killed her. Alana… please? I love my brother." Dean whispered. Sam dropped forward to his knees.

"Dean…" Sam whispered weakly. Dean ran to his side and he knelt down next to him. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Are you with me?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. "Fight her, don't let a girl beat you!"

"Dean, get out of here!" Sam yelled through gritted teeth. His hand stared shaking; the one holding the knife. It started toward Dean, but Sam used his other hand to stop it. "No!" He yelled. Dean got that he was talking to Alana. "Dean, go!"

"I'm not leaving you down here!" Dean yelled. "Look, I hate to do this, but you either fight her or we're both going to die." Dean explained simply. "We Winchesters don't do anything half way." Sam couldn't suppress a weak smile.

Sam gasped and clutched his head. It felt like someone was banging around in his skull with a hammer. Dean gripped his shoulders.

"Sam! What's happening?" Dean yelled. Sam looked at him, but didn't see him. Dean watched his brother's eyes flash back and forth to that same shimmering, emerald green. He couldn't help but to think—being the ladies' man he is—that Alana must have been one hot lesbian.

Suddenly Sam went limp in his arms. Dean scooped him up and held him close to his chest, feeling his pulse.

"Sam, hey, wake up." Dean whispered softly. "Sammy…"

"Sam, open your eyes." Someone whispered. He felt cold breath on his cheek. He opened his eyes and Jessica was looking at him. Her skin looked icy and pale. Her lips were a faint blue and her eyes were cold and lifeless. Nevertheless, she smiled and for a moment she was his Jessica again.

"Jess…" Sam breathed and sat up. He looked around at the white nothingness. "Where are we?" She smiled in the coy way she did whenever she had a secret.

"This is your mind, Sammy." She said bluntly. "Alana was handing your ass to you out there… in here, you have the advantage." She stood up and held her hand out to Sam. She was wearing that same white nightgown he'd imagined her in so many times.

"Jess, I'm so sorry…" He started. She shook her head.

"Now isn't the time, Sam." She whispered. "She's coming." Then Jessica disappeared and a thin woman with long black hair stood in her place. She was standing with her head down and her shoulders hunched over so her hair covered her face. She was barefoot and her dress was covered in soot and looked like the bottom was burned.

Slowly the girl raised her head, her hair falling back so Sam could see her eyes. He locked eyes with her and she smiled. Slowly, but surely her body erupted in flame and she stepped closer.

He could feel the heat. He knew soon it would engulf him.

"Christ, Sammy. You're burning up." Dean whispered as he took his hand away from Sam's forehead. His eyes were rolling around behind his lids, so at least he was alive… but what the hell was going on?

She stepped closer and the fire got hotter. Sam felt sweat break out across his forehead, yet he was frozen in place.

"Sam, don't let her win." Jessica whispered. Sam felt a knife materialize in his hand. He looked down at it, and then Alana put her hand on his chest.

Sam let out a deep scream and arched his back. Dean watched in horror as a handprint appeared on Sam's chest. It was being burnt there. And Dean couldn't do anything.

Sam thrust the knife under Alana's ribcage and the fire on his chest stopped. He yanked it out and Alana staggered back and dropped to her knees. Sam felt relieved, until he saw the smile on her face. She threw her head back and laughed.

"You may have stopped me, Samuel. But you will still watch your family die." She whispered.

In a rush of light Sam gasped and opened his eyes. He was breathing heavily and he felt Dean's arms around him, loosely. Sam looked at his hands… his bloody hands. The knife he was holding was covered in blood. Sam looked at Dean and noticed he was pale. Dean looked down at his stomach, where he was bleeding from a knife wound.

"Oh God, Dean!" Sam yelled and sat up, ignoring the dull pain pulsating through his body and the fiery agony gripping at the burn on his chest. "Dean… oh shit… I… oh God." He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. What the fuck had just happened? Was it his fault? Sam felt like he was going to black out again. The smell of blood snapped him back to reality. He laid Dean flat on his back and gripped his hand tightly. "Dean, listen to me." He said strongly, demanding Dean's gaze. "You are going to be fine." Sam assured him.

"What the fuck happened?" Dean asked quietly and coughed, wetting his lips with blood. _Shit. That wasn't good._ Sam smiled gently and lovingly brushed back Dean's hair from his damp forehead.

"I'll explain later." Sam whispered and balled Dean's shirt in his hand and pressed down hard on the wound. Dean groaned. "I know, I'm sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding." Sam was using the tone he could remember Dean using when he was young and hurt. Dean was having trouble breathing, Sam could tell by the gasping. "Hey, Dean, you just have to breath, concentrate on breathing." Sam dug deep into his pocket, searching for his cell phone. _Nothing ever went right, just please God, let him have the fucking phone_.


	8. Chapter 8

So. This is the end! Hope you liked. See notes at the end.

Chapter eight; The Unfinished Conclusion

Sam was sleeping uncomfortably in the little chair next to Dean's bed. Dean smiled looking at him; his neck was going to hurt so bad when he woke up. He had his arm in a sling, probably so he didn't make that burn on his chest worse. Dean had been awake for about a minute, but didn't say anything.

Almost as if Sam could feel him, his eyes opened. He smiled when he saw Dean was awake. He sat up higher in the chair and scooted it closer to Dean's bed.

"Hey." Sam whispered hoarsely. "How long have you been awake?" Dean cleared his throat.

"About a minute." His voice was a rough whisper and it hurt to talk. "How long have I been here?" Dean asked. Sam looked at the clock.

"A little more than two days." Sam explained. He sighed heavily and hung his head. "Jesus Dean… I am so sorry." Sam whispered. Dean shook his head.

"No, Sam. I know you didn't mean to. Please, don't apologize." Dean whispered. Sam didn't say anything. They sat there in silence for a minute.

Sam looked up when he felt Dean grabbed his hand. Sam looked at him. Dean shrugged.

"I think it's all these drugs…" He whispered and gave his brother's hand a little squeeze. Sam smiled and squeezed back. "Dude, so this is over? Lisa… Hannah is dead and Alana is gone?" Sam nodded.

"Yeah…" Sam explained. Dean sighed heavily and put a hand protectively over the wound.

"Dang Samuel… if Dad could see you handle a knife." Dean said gently. Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was because Dean was still holding his hand, but Sam smiled.

Hey, it wasn't the giant chick flick moment they needed, but it was something.

EPILOGUE

Sam stood closer to Dean than his older brother would have liked, but that was too damn bad. He'd just have to deal with it. Sam opened the car door for him and made sure he was seated and had his seatbelt on before shutting the door.

"Hey Sam?" Dean asked when Sam slid into the driver's seat. "Did you talk to that Tracey girl?" Dean asked. Sam looked at him. "Did you make sure she knew it was over?"

"Yeah… about that." Sam said quietly. He took a deep breath and hit the steering wheel light with both hands. "Um… apparently Tracey killed herself." Sam watched his brother go a few shades whiter. Sam cocked his head to the side. "Dean, there was nothing we could have done differently, she overdosed on the meds they'd been giving her."

"She said something had been trying to kill her." Dean whispered.

"She killed herself, Dean." Sam reminded him. He nodded.

"Right." He took a deep breath and winced slightly, recovered nicely, but Sam still saw him. "Where we going now?" Dean asked, smiling slightly. Sam didn't press their previous conversation, but he knew Dean would be losing sleep over Tracey. But right now… he was just thankful to have Dean at all.

"There was this murder up in Chicago." Sam explained. Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Chicago, huh?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "I can live with that."

A/N: This goes straight into Shadows… obviously. So, I hoped you liked it. There probably won't be a sequel… but for those of you who read The Bandage Cut Me Deeper, I'm working on a sequel. OH AND WHAT THE HECK DOES AU STAND FOR: )

It was fun!

Much love,

Your writer: M.Kena


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